


The Dawn on the Other Side

by Aviaries



Series: What A World We Live In (Royalty AU) [1]
Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: F/F, F/M, General Royalty Stuff, It's an interesting tale, M/M, Romance, Royalty AU, Some Fluff, Some angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-06-28 02:18:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15698109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aviaries/pseuds/Aviaries
Summary: What a world we live in, indeed.---Marvin's the king. That much has always been true, even when it wasn't yet. And for all he knows, Marvin is the perfect king. His wife and son, Jason, would disagree.It doesn't help that his royal advisor, Whizzer, seems to be catching his attention more than he should. And what about the glances between the Ambassador to the People, Mendel, and his wife? Or what about the recurring letters from the neighbouring kingdom inviting the family to a gala?It's all a bit much, don't you think?---The Royalty AU that no one asked for.





	1. 1/Prologue

If there were ever a family so photogenic as the Royal Family of Cantabile, they would consider themselves lucky. Great cards to send to relatives, wonderful portraits in the home, everything centred neatly with beautiful smiles and lovely eyes. However, the fact of the matter was that being photogenic seemed to be the family’s only good quality.

The King was Marvin, who hated the fact that he was king. No, that was a lie. He loved being king. He loved and lived for the idea of it. But the road to get there was messy and unsettling and Marvin was not fond of that history. 

Marvin was tall, textbook handsome and textbook charming, and the perfect ruler, or so they said. Dark hair, dark eyes. His smile was crooked. And most often smug. It was perfect for the perfect ruler.

His wife would disagree. Maybe his son would, too. 

Marvin ruled his kingdom with logic, with ideas and rationale. His meanings were doubled when he spoke. His laws were just. Maybe people would attribute some of that to his advisor. He was a man named Whizzer, though not many people seemed to understand that his name was  _ actually _ Whizzer and it wasn’t a codename. 

_ “Whizzer?” Marvin’s wife had said, incredulous the morning after he arrived, seeing her husband for the first time that morning over a cup of coffee in their sitting room. “Is that really his name?" _

_ Marvin had given her a weak smile and replied that it was, in fact, his name and that he would be staying a good long while. _

_ “I see.” _

_ Not much else was said on the issue because they both knew what was to come if there was a protest. Marvin was the king. _

When Whizzer came to the castle’s doors not even a year ago, he was warmly received. He wasn’t even of the same kingdom. He had travelled from a neighbouring one, which in itself was quite a feat. Marvin’s kingdom was spread out, vast, and against the coast. The ocean roared to welcome the morning, the storms not bothering the kingdom as it rested on a cliff.

Whizzer grew fond of it rather quickly.

It was strange how quickly Whizzer became integrated into the life of the castle. He charmed his way into everyone’s hearts. He was whimsical, with a boyish face and youthful energy. Charismatic. Intelligent enough. But nowhere in there was he naive.

As winter approached and the dusks got earlier, Whizzer and Marvin studied late into the night, reforming policy and trying to solve the matter of the insufficient autumn harvest.

His wife tucked their son into bed as the darkness overtook the day. She told him stories of the world. Told him stories of other worlds, too. Better ones. With dragons and monsters.

Jason, Marvin’s son, loved hearing the stories about the faraway lands. He thought that maybe, possibly, he could visit them someday instead of being stuck in Cantabile with the spiteful glances that were thrown down halls. He wished that there would be a day where they could all laugh and smile where it wasn’t some act. He had once wished that his father and mother would simply offer each other a loving glance. But no. They didn’t so much as do that. They simply smiled at Jason, nodded to each other, ate dinner, and left the table, allowing Jason to play chess, Marvin’s wife to busy herself with the mindless tasks that consumed her days, and Marvin to be the king he was meant to.

Jason’s mother tucked him into bed and told him stories. Marvin came in long after the sun had gone to bed and kissed him goodnight, lightly. Sometimes Jason was asleep. Most often, he was awake, listening for the sound of leather shoes on the marble hallways outside his room.

The only person who seemed to really make Jason smile was Mendel, a man who took it upon himself to be a confidante and source of comical amusement to the prince. They talked about the state of the family, though Mendel’s ability to ease any of Jason’s worries seemed limited. Still, Jason, only nine, was appreciative that  _ someone _ would listen to him.

Mendel’s official job was to record the grievances of the court and citizens of Cantabile. He took in their stories, wrote about their troubles and the troubles of the people, and reported them to Marvin for review.

The task seemed overly simplified, but Marvin and Whizzer’s every proclamation seemed to create one more issue which needed to be dealt with. Still, considering everything, the kingdom was well run, most people were happy, and all was well.

Overall, their tale was not extraordinary. For, if they weren’t royalty, no one would even notice that their dysfunction was a problem at all. It wouldn’t be until a few months later that the kingdom would unravel. It wouldn’t be until a few months later that everything would fall to pieces.


	2. The Definition of Marital Strife

“He’s been here for quite awhile.”

Marvin’s wife was already at the table when Marvin swept in, cloaks and coats flowing behind him. He liked looking presentable at all times. No one besides the royal dressers and his wife were allowed to see him outside of his royal best.

“Who?” Marvin asked, taking a seat as the servants brought over the coffee, cream, and sugar.

“Whizzer.”

Marvin rolled his eyes. This again. “He’s a good advisor. He’s been doing the kingdom a great service. If he’s effective at his job, I see no reason for him to be sacked.”

His wife nodded, understanding but not quite accepting. There were a few moments of silence before she started again. “Don’t you get tired of that dark, dusty study in that far tower?”

Marvin scowled at her, a little irritable but not quite angry. This was so like her. Her need for senseless conversing and the implication of her need for affection and kisses. What would she rather have than for him to improve the kingdom? Pointless hugs and meaningless caresses. They were supposed to share the night together, but now that time was being eclipsed by progress being made towards the kingdom. Could she be so selfish as to care more about her incessant need for love than the lives of the people Marvin was supposed to be leading.

“I don’t get tired of making the kingdom better for my subjects, no.” He said, briskly.

  
His wife nodded again, the same sort of empty nod, knowing she wouldn’t get anywhere with this. Whizzer was a fine person, she thought. Reasonable enough, too. Sweet. Trim. Definitely had a flair, a style. Some panache, she dared to think. Whizzer’s charm towards her seemed foreign, almost uncharacteristic of anyone else in the palace. He seemed to try to win her over every now and again with a word or two. Something sweet like a compliment on a comment she’s made about the court or something small about how nice she looked when she smiled. Those comments made the difference between the type of men like Marvin and the type of men like Whizzer.

“Pass the sugar, please,” she requested, and Marvin did.

She stirred in the sweetness until her drink was saccharine, the only sort of sweetness she seemed to receive during the day. 

Marvin didn’t understand how she could do that. He drank his coffee black some days, just to wake him up. 

“Are you sorting out the menu for dinner tonight?” He asked her. His wife blinked at him, a little incredulous. 

“Of course. It’s the one task you’ve assigned me.”

He frowned, not appreciating the tone. He wasn’t just the king, he was her husband. Shouldn’t a certain amount of respect be due?

“Well, sort out enough for one more for dinner,” he instructed tersely before finishing his coffee and standing up to go. The pounds of cloth for his royal dressings just added to the false imposition. He was her height, but the added weight of his clothes just made him appear bigger. An illusion. His wife knew just who he was.

She sat at the table annoyed as he briskly walked out. But of course, it wasn’t in her nature to say anything. She couldn’t. And besides, it wasn’t her place.

A squawk echoed in the room and The Queen looked at the parakeet nestled in the cage in the corner of their shared sitting room.

“Poor thing,” The Queen noted before getting up and trying to make herself look presentable as well. “I’d fly away if I were you.”

~

“She’s incessant,” Marvin complained, walking into the study. “Completely irrational.”

Whizzer looked up, already poring over a document about foreign trade. “You look tired,” he commented, not bothering to say anything about his wife. They had been through that far too many times.

“I’m always tired,” Marvin shot back. He tossed off his cloak and went to look over Whizzer’s shoulder. “What is this?”

“Proposition for the exchange of certain fruits and vegetables.”

“Ah. From who?”

“Arietta.”

“Oh. Cordelia’s kingdom?”

Whizzer seemed a little surprised. “No proper title?”

Marvin sighed. “It’s not a respect thing. It’s because I’ve known her so long,” he explained. “Cordelia McCoy of Arietta used to be one of the few girls I got along with back when there were balls or parties I had to attend as a child.”

“I see.”

Whizzer pulled out a few more documents for the two to look over. A few hours passed and they were still trying to sort together the tax orders and the budgets for education in the kingdom. “I don’t understand what we’re missing,” Whizzer said after another hour, looking at the numbers and trying to tally everything up again.

Marvin was sitting, legs crossed, on the sofa, trying to mark up more numbers and failing. “We’ve lost track of 2,000 Cole” he said, clearly losing patience. “All the official receipts are here! The original documents, the statements.” He frowned and set down the papers and pen.

Two hands rest on his shoulders and he looked up to see Whizzer over him, looking down with a sort of smile. “You’re thinking too hard,” he said.

“I’m trying to maintain our kingdom.”

“Our?”

“Well, you’re the advisor aren’t you?”

“Yes. But you rarely refer to the kingdom as anyone’s but yours.”

Marvin scoffed. “I am the king,” he said indignantly.

“And I’m just the advisor.”

“And you’ve done a marvelous job of it. So may I ask you, would you like to come to dinner tonight?”

“Me? Wouldn't you have to have your wife rearrange the menu? She spends a lot of time trying to make things perfect, you know. Throwing in a wrench might just induce a nervous panic. Remember when you had her rearrange dinner when you weren’t going to be there?”

“I already told her to plan an extra place,” Marvin replied, preferring to ignore the fact that he had caused his wife significant distress not too long ago. Especially since the reason he wasn’t there was to be there with Whizzer to figure out the details for a gala.

Whizzer stared down at him and laughed, taking his hands off of Marvin’s shoulders and running one through his hair. “So you had your wife set up another place on the chance that I would say yes?”

“That is correct.”

Whizzer stopped, realizing what this meant. Marvin didn’t even like having dinner with his family. He liked having dinner with the idea of family, but not so much his actual family. It was always filled with tension and awkward silence. To invite Whizzer to such an occasion was like inviting him to something even more exclusive than a royal ball.

“Well," Whizzer started with a bit of a boyish grin, "you’re in luck. I accept.”


	3. Setting Up

 

The Prince’s footsteps echoed down the long halls. 

His pace was rapid as he dashed along the marble floors, searching for his father, The King. 

Rarely was Jason ever seeking out his father, as Marvin was not someone he was particularly fond of as of late. The two didn’t speak much, except at dinner. And even then, the two rarely really spoke. It was more of the typical questions. The small talk. Filler conversation. His mother and father were not good facilitators of healthy interpersonal relationships.

A collision occurred suddenly as a corner was turned and Jason felt himself fall backward with a gasp.

“Jason!”

Mendel, the Ambassador to the People, was across from him. Both of them were on the ground, facing each other. Clearly, this is who he had run into.

“Oh, Mendel…” Jason, flustered, stood. Tried to say something but was unable to, really.

“Where are you off to in such a rush?” Mendel was picking himself off the ground and straightening his robes as he spoke. “You’re usually not so… enthusiastic.”

That was true. Jason was rarely ever excited. Rarely. Commonly used to describe the states of Jason. Rarely happy. Rarely engaged.

Jason was incredibly smart but not social. He didn’t excite for many things. But today…

“I’m going to speak to my father! Mother was talking about setting another place for dinner!”

Oh.

Mendel nodded. No one ever interrupted the royal family ritual. The routine of togetherness the masked the chaos they felt. Mendel felt almost jealous that someone would be joining them. Heaven knew it wasn’t him.

The Queen had asked before. She had invited him to the table, but it was quickly overruled. 

Marvin had rejected the idea outright and had sent Mendel on his way. Sent him away to do some sort of other errand.

 

“Do you know who the guest is?” Mendel asked, already accepting it wasn’t his name that would be said.

 

No name was said, actually.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

Mendel was surprised. Wouldn’t the queen kindly ask Marvin who would be joining them? 

 

The woman was soft and kind to all. Or, almost all. In fact, her only harsh interactions appeared to be with her husband. And those, still, were not heavily advertised. Often times, the woman would put on a facade of pleasure with her role. But Mendel, having access to their quarters in case of emergencies, had heard their fighting when he had to alert them of emergencies at late hours.

 

He had heard her passionate yelling. Her crying. Their shouting. No one was supposed to hear. No one was supposed to be able to know.

 

But Mendel did.

 

He had waited for it to die down before announcing a riot in the square. The Queen looked up at him, her eyes red. She was trying to hide her misery.

 

Marvin took to action as soon as he could, marching from the room to command someone of what to do.

 

Back to the moment at hand.

 

Jason was bouncing. Practically dying to go see his father to ask about the extra seat.

 

Mendel chuckled a bit, pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind. “If you do find your father, remind him that the arrangements for the summer festival need to be made.”

 

With a nod, Jason was off down the halls again.

 

* * *

 

“You’re inviting him?”

 

The Queen was fixing up some flowers in another hall. She did inspections of the palace every now and again, fixing crooked tapestries and sorting out flowers.

 

Marvin frowned. “What’s wrong with it?”

 

The two were standing by the doors to the tower, Marvin looking imposing in his illusion of clothes and his wife arranging the flowers to a better condition. His blue robes contrasted with her light lavender dress. Stark contrast, one could say.

 

“Nothing’s wrong with it. I just thought that you would never invite anyone to our private meals.”

 

A scowl. That tone wasn’t exactly what The King wanted to hear.

 

“Did you sort out the menu, yet?” He asked, curtly.

 

A blue carnation was put back into place. “It’s been done.”

 

“Good. Now that that’s all settled, I expect-“

 

“Father, father, father!”

 

The two turned to see their young son bounding towards them.

 

“Jason? What is it?”

 

Marvin looked as Jason skidded to a halt before them.

 

“Who’s the dinner guest!?”

 

The kid wasted no time with that question.

 

The Queen was silent.

 

“Come on, mother! Father, who is it?”

 

Marvin smiled and ruffled the kid’s hair. “The Royal Advisor.”

 

“Whizzer?”

 

“Yes, kiddo.”

 

Jason’s face held a strange confusion. He didn’t know exactly what he should be saying at that point. Whizzer had only been there for so long. In actuality, Jason had wondered if it were some family member, or maybe Queen Cordelia. But also, Jason was excited to see Whizzer. They were good friends to an extent. They bonded well. Whizzer even promised to teach Jason the tenants of being a knight, though he wasn’t formally trained.

 

“Why don’t you go wash up, Jason?” 

 

Jason nodded, smiled, did as his mother suggested. His play clothes wouldn’t be practical for dinner. Most likely, as both his parents knew, he would be sitting and playing chess for hours before actual washing up, and by that point, dinner would be ready.

 

He bounded away, a thrill of excitement through him.


	4. A Talk Between Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation between The Royal Ambassador and His Queen.

 

“Are you distressed?”

The Queen spun around suddenly, surprised. She hadn’t expected anyone to notice her wandering aimlessly, contemplating the dinner that would occur.

The smiling face of the Ambassador cheered her, though she said nothing about it. His curly dark hair was a little disordered, telling her that he may have been sent on some wild errand. Although, if she were honest, he did look like that sometimes. Sort of charmingly disheveled. As if he put everything into anything he did. Marvin would tell him there was a task to be addressed and Mendel, the kind soul he was, would acquiesce.

Marvin did that. He sent Mendel out on wild chases.

“Are you alright?” He asked, trying to see if the Queen was, indeed, okay.

She seemed tired. More fatigued than normal. He wondered if she and the king had had another fight.

“Yes, thank you,” she replied, steadying her voice.

Whizzer coming to dinner wasn’t the sort of thing that exactly eased her. Mendel might be able to sense that, though if he knew that Whizzer was coming to dinner in the first place was another question.

“You seem distant,” he stated, frowning.

The woman simply shook her head, trying to maintain a regal, collected appearance. It was all a show, of course. Mendel had to know. Everyone had to know. But it was alright. Mendel, nor anyone else, seemed to call her on it.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. It felt more and more lately that she had to steady herself against other people. Against others prying into her marriage. Of course, Mendel was quite aware of what was happening. And even those who were not in such close proximity to their family were aware. When possible, Mendel would try to hush those who decided to speak ill of the family, but the servants were right. They were a mess of a group.

“Might I ask what’s troubling you, my lady?” He tried, attempting more formality than what they were typically accustomed to.

The Queen was surprised. After long enough, the two had made an almost unspoken agreement that they would speak casually with each other. It was nothing more than an evolution of sorts. From high titles to the woman agreeing for the man to call her by her name.

No one else seemed to do it much. And Mendel, at this moment, didn’t seem to offer the use of it.

“Oh, we’ll be having a dinner guest,” the Queen replied, a wry smile on her face. She wondered if Mendel knew by now. It didn’t seem many others did.

Mendel nodded. That information was not new, but he was so keenly curious who the guest would be.

“A name of the guest?” He asked, his voice still in that formal tone.

The woman wanted to wince. Had Marvin asked him to restore the distance between them. It would be a shame for certain if he had. “Our most royal advisor,” she replied finally, an anxiety creeping into her voice.

If anyone were to make their family a wider group than it was, of course it would be Whizzer. Whizzer Brown. Royal Advisor to the King. Mendel spelled out that title in his head often, having been corrected so many times by the King himself into giving the man all the proper respect he was due.

“I see. Well, he’s certainly cordial enough,” Mendel offered.

The Queen and her grimace of a smile returned. “Yes. Cordial. Courteous. Charming. Charismatic. All things you would want in a man,” she remarked.

Mendel was unsure if the Queen had meant it to mean she was interested in Whizzer as a friend or suitor. Certainly not the latter, he hoped. Mendel was, admittedly, quite smitten with the woman. Though their relationship would not permit him to say so much as that, and of course, if you factored in the fact that the Queen was... the Queen... and a married woman, the entire idea was doomed from the start.

“You don’t seem happy about that,” he mentioned.

The woman laughed. “No, he’s quite alright. He’s the perfect gentleman. Though, I’m certain that whatever praise I could offer him, my husband would be able to offer more. He knows him best, after all.”

“Your meaning?”

“He spends all day in the tower with him. The King, I mean. The two of them working away to solve all the problems in the kingdom, when in reality, more problems just seem to arise. I saw the books. Taxes are unaccounted for, though whether that is an issue of collection or calculation I am uncertain.”

Mendel could often marvel at the woman’s insight. She seemed so knowledgable on so many subjects, and he realized, of course, it was because she read. Often. Frequently. If there were a dispute between the royal couple in an open hall, then Marvin would retire to the tower and The Queen would usually retire to the library.

The woman loved being surrounded by that much narrative. Those many stories that weaved pictures of worlds beyond her own. He wondered how she had gotten started with her stacks once, and she had said that it had all stemmed from trying to teach Jason.

Prince Jason was an avid reader, though his interests had been diverted to chess of all things. A bit of a laugh, if the woman were to think about it. The goal was to capture the king. The Queen was not good at chess. She would admit it herself. She was intelligent in her own way, but chess was not her forte. That was something between the King and the Prince.

“Are you disappointed?” Mendel could hear himself asking, though he regretted it in a moment. The formality had shed and the two seemed to be chatting like old friends again.

The woman gave a slight scoff. And then a statement Mendel found distressing. It sounded cold. “Does that matter?”

A silence overtook them both. He wasn’t sure what to say to her, and the woman was uncertain what to say back. They stood, neither moving. Neither of them seemed to want to breathe. But Mendel watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, wondering if the anxiety he knew she suffered from was returning. Her boldness was fleeting.

She gave a rueful smile and turned away. “I should be going,” she said carefully, taking a few steps towards the direction of the library. “Perhaps we can talk again at another time.”

Mendel nodded, though he knew she could not see him. “Yes, of course,” he mumbled, unsure if the woman had heard.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're reading this, I need to make it clear that this was not a solo invention. I can thank some people in my Falsettos server for giving me some wicked ideas.


End file.
